I ONLY ATTEND the party because of Doc.
The little voice inside warns I should stay home. Prickles dance up my spine as I douse my brown skin in lotion. As I pull on my robe.
Unease stirs in my chest. A storm is coming.
It's waiting for me there. At that party.
I've never been one to fall on gut feelings, but it's more than premonition. Schmoozing Jerrison's guests and parading around with him sounds like a nightmare.
It kills me to honor my husband in private. How on earth do I accomplish that in public?
Deep breaths. Closed eyes. I can tame the beast inside.
These past two weeks have been lessons in restraint. Everyday I wonder. Hesitate. Rebel.
Is it worth it? Can I feel new in this skin of service? It hurts.
It burns me.
What has he done to deserve pots that boil over and pans that sizzle?
Coconut rice. Onions doused in oil. Meat tenderized over flames.
